


Sunlight

by LoveDrift



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:40:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveDrift/pseuds/LoveDrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drift has a nightmare and Wing makes it alllllllllll better. Set during my other work or at least in the same universe Into The Dark to Find the Light...I apologize for  horrendous punctuation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaiFinnigan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiFinnigan/gifts).



> This is my Christmas present to RaiFinnigan, who has been my rock, my muse...my Wing. I owe her so much. Rai, my dear, you are an awesome friend and I love you with all my heart! Thank you so much for all you do for me! I know I am a major pain in the ass lol so it really means a lot that you have stuck by me, both good times and bad....more than you could possibly know! I hope you enjoy this...I had fun writing it! Oh and I wrote it listening to Sade's "No Ordinary Love" ....*giggles*

Drift was running, sprinting for his life, dashing through the back alleyways of the Dead End, his hip scabbards swaying, intakes heaving, fear burning through every inch of him. Energon pours from his arms where his thin plating was rent back, lines torn and shredded violently. The red and white mech vaults over a pile of rubble, quickly looking over his shoulder to check the position of his pursuers when his vault smacks him right into Dai Atlas. Drift gasps as he looks up at the leader of the Knights looming menacingly above him. 

“Failure! You brought our beloved city to ruin!! Worthless!” Dai Atlas raises his hand as he speaks, backhanding Drift hard as the he spits out worthless. 

The force of the blow sends the swordsmech careening far beyond into the darkness. Dazed, Drift manages to get to his knees, his optics focusing on a coruscating white orb slowly moving toward him. Soft, lilting laughter teases the air around Drift as the orb shimmers and ripples into...Wing. 

“My sky,” Wing opens his arms, trilling softly, optics glowing like the sun--Drift’s sun.

Drift reaches out for his Conjunx just as Braid's spear explodes from Wing’s chest. 

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! WING!!!!!!!” Drift screams and howls in abject misery, thrashing on the berth, engine revving hard in distress. 

“Drift! Drift wake up…beloved, it’s me…you’re okay….” Another nightmare, oh Drift. Wing shifts onto his side and pulls the trembling mech into his embrace. 

Drift gasps and opens his optics, his intakes heaving, hands grasping the jets nacelles as if to ground him. “W-Wing…” Drift gazes into the jets optics and cups Wing’s face. “You’re alive…”

“Of course I am, beloved,” Wing turns his helm, optics locked on his grounder, and kisses his swordsmech palm, covering Drift’s hands with his own, “Oh Drift, again? My love I am not going anywhere. I am so sorry you were led to believe I was dead. But I am very much alive,” his golden optics glitter as a sly smirk curls its way onto his lips, “…allow me to show you just how VERY alive I am, beloved…” A light, playful chuckle escapes Wing’s vocalizer as comprehension finally sinks in, Drift’s expression going from distress to relief to joy and then to desire. “Dear Primus you are beautiful, Drift…” The jet’s voice takes on a husky tone as he shifts Drift to lie beneath him, pressing their lips together when he gets his Conjunx right where he wants him.

“Wing…” The white knights’ name escapes from Drift in a sweet, pleasured gasp as Wing presses their lips together. Drift’s hands glide up Wing’s sides to trace the outlines of his softly rumbling nacelles.

“Mmm…no, love, let me…” Wing’s lips are plush velvet against his as Wing whispers every word against them. The jet flicks out his glossa, caressing Drift’s lips, slowly, teasingly slipping inside Drift’s mouth. 

The protest about leap from Drift becomes a soft moan of pleasure at the taste of Wing. His arms fall to Wings waist, not wanting to break all contact. Wing is here and safe and…oooooh…oooooh!..sucking on his glossa...oh...oh wow…Drift arches his back, pushing their chest plates together, a much louder groan escaping this time. His spike throbs behind his panel, lubricant pooling behind his valve cover, his valve clenching on nothing but anticipation.

Wing smiles, feeling the heat rolling off the other’s frame, releasing Drift’s glossa with a sensual, wet pop and nips the red and white mechs chin, playfully nibbling down Drift’s jaw to his neck. 

“Wing…” Drift gasps the jets name and tilts his helm back, exposing his neck to Wing, who takes full advantage of it with nips, licks and sultry little sucks of Drift’s cables and main energon line. Another reverent whisper of the jet’s name as Drift tips his hips up and flares his plating, expelling heat, his motor running so very hot, coolant surging rapidly through his lines. 

“Soooo beautiful, Drift…so beautiful…” Wing is practically at the verge of overload from the gorgeously sensual display before him. Wing’s hands and mouth snake their way down Drift’s frame, teasing seams along the way before stopping on his divine stomach, which Wing worships with both hands and mouth. Deft fingers and glossa slip in between the red and black plating; fingers stroking wires, glossa licking sensory nodes. 

Unable to control himself, Drift cries out in pleasure, his fingers digging into the berth, back bowing, both panels opening. Drift’s extremely pressurized spike jumps out and throbs with need against Wing’s neck, transfluid weeping from the tip. His valve cover irises open, the lubricant that pooled behind the cover gushing out onto the berth. “Primus, Wing! Please!”

Wing smirks as he nuzzles against Drift’s glistening spike. “Not yet, love,” His golden optics lid with desire as he rolls his glossa along the tip of Drift’s spike moaning with need when the biolights around Drift’s spike glow brighter. Wing slowly sucks more of Drift into his mouth, creating a tight suction combining with his caressing glossa while his fingers find their way into the grounders hip joints. 

Drift writhes in ecstasy, his entire sensor net on fire. He can’t help but buck into that tantalizing, sultry warmth around his spike. “Wing…oh Wing…uhn…mm…y-yes…oh Primus...Wing,” His engine starts to tick from running so hot, his fans now clicking over to high. His valve hasn’t stop quivering, the calipers clenching and unclenching in a maddening cycle demanding attention. Drift can feel his oil lines pulsating through his system, all diverted to that hot motor of his as talented fingers delve deeper into those luscious hips, stroking pistons, tweaking wire clusters and teasing hydraulic actuators. “WING! I-I’M—“With a loud, wanton keen Drift bucks up into that tight warmth and overloads, his transfluid exploding from his spike and down the jets throat.

Wing purrs and milks Drift’s spike for every drop. Once satisfied, the knight slowly withdraws from around Drift’s spike. Wing’s panel has long since opened and his spike is aching with need; aching for what lies between Drift’s delicious thighs. The lithe jet saunters up his sexy mate’s frame, making sure to drag his spike over Drift’s thigh, leaving a trail of glistening silver. Wing smashes his mouth to Drift’s, devouring it with a hungry growl.

The taste of himself on Wing is almost too much. Drift wraps his arms around Wings neck and hikes up his knees, kissing the jet back with equal fervor, whimpering with need. 

Wing growls and slides his arms under Drift, cradling the slightly smaller mech to him as he pushes his turgid spike into Drift’s tight and dripping valve. They moan into their kiss, frames writhing against each other, Wings hips rolling forward and down, Drift’s bucking up into the rolls. The rumbles from Wing’s engines combined with the revving of Drift’s motor create a symphony for their passionate love making. It doesn’t take long for both to reach overload: Wing arching his back, his wings unfolding and flaring out, as he pushes hard against Drift’s ceiling node, his transfluid bursting forth and filling Drift’s valve; Drift clinging to Wing sobbing in pleasure, shivering in ecstasy from his overload, copious amounts of his lubricant swirling with Wing’s transfluid, leaking out between them. The two collapse back onto the berth together, still entwined, still joined, no words needed as they lie there, forehelms pressed together, optics locked, pure, true love flowing between them in their bond. Daylight breaks, the sunlight filling their room with a warm, gentle glow as if the universe itself is smiling upon them.


End file.
